Double Her Pleasure (9 page)

Garret opened his eyes. Had Trey said something? An orange
glow flickered across the bedroom ceiling. Sunrise already? Couldn’t be.

“Fire.” Trey pulled on his pants.

Megan shot upright. “Oh my God!” She panted a few times then
scrambled out of bed.

Garret jumped to his feet, grabbing the towel and wrapping
it around his waist. He bolted to the window.

The horse barn. The entire front wall was engulfed in raging
orange and white flames.

He froze for a second, his heart galloping. A lightning
strike?

The phone rang.

Fists pounded on the kitchen door.

Trey took off down the stairs, hauling a T-shirt over his
head.

Megan answered the phone. “They’re coming.” She paused.
“I’ll tell him.” She hung up and followed Garret down the stairs.

Trey was at the open door, pulling on his boots while
talking to the security guard. “Don’t leave. Stay sharp. Make sure there’s
someone at the other door.”

“Yes, sir.”

Garret grabbed his boots.

Megan wrapped her shaking hand around his wrist. “Wait,
Garret. Your clothes.” She ran to the laundry room and came back in seconds
with a pair of his jeans and a T-shirt.

As Garret dressed, Trey grabbed Megan’s arms and bent to
stare into her eyes. “Stay here. I’ll set the alarm, the guards are at both
doors.” He looked at Garret, then back at Megan. “We don’t know if this is from
the lightning, or if it was set.”

She nodded, trembling visibly.

“Please, don’t leave the house and call if you need us.” He
kissed her forehead and ran.

Garret buttoned his jeans and pulled on his boots. “We’ll be
close, baby.” He kissed her lips. “Don’t worry.”

She nodded, then caught his sleeve. “They already called the
fire department. Your security people, I mean. They’re calling all the
neighbors, too.”

“Good. Would you call Mom and Dad?”

She nodded, and Garret ran, pulling on his shirt as he went.
Trey was halfway to the barn on the ATV, and Garret jumped into the truck and
went off-road to catch up with him.

They pulled up as ranch hands and security staff unrolled
huge hoses and attached them to the hydrants.

The crackle and roar of fire consuming wood nearly deafened
him.

High-pitched screams came from inside the building.

“The horses.” Trey took off running toward the back of the
barn, and Garret followed.

Horses with blankets, towels, or shirts over their eyes were
led from the barn by Silver Spur employees. They let the animals loose in the
far paddock.

Garret ran into the building ahead of Trey, waving his arm
to clear the smoke. Five horses remained. He stripped off his shirt and went to
the stall closest to the fire. “Whoa there.” He grabbed the horse’s halter and
wrapped his shirt around her face, leading her firmly but talking softly.

Trey was right behind him with his horse.

They tucked the horses into the corral and saw the last
three mares being led toward them.

Trey bent over, coughing.

Their Dad’s pickup truck slid to a stop a few feet from the
corral fence. Derrick jumped out. “What happened?”

The three of them ran to the front of the barn.

“Don’t know.” Trey said, grabbing one of the hoses just
behind the man wielding it, helping with the weight.

Garret did the same with the other hose. His dad followed.
“We have a sprinkler system.”

Trey shook his head. “Didn’t go off, Dad. It’s dry as
kindling in there.”

Derrick ran to Trey and spoke to him, but Garret couldn’t
hear over the fire, the water gushing, and his heart thumping loud in his ears.
He’d been through plenty of fires—on screen—but nothing like this. His barn.
His home. He couldn’t name the emotions running through him.

Three trucks pulled in, and five men jumped out. He
recognized one of the neighbors. The guy took over for the ranch hand holding
the front of the hose, and he stumbled away, breathing hard.

Two more men took over for Trey and the hand in front of
him.

Trey and Dad ran around the back of the building, gesturing
for others to follow. Garret grabbed one of the new arrivals and had him take
over holding the hose.

Running to catch up to his family, Garret tripped on a tool
left out in the yard. He picked it up. A wrench? A really big one. He lugged
the heavy thing along with him to the side of the barn where Trey and Derrick
shone a flashlight into a metal box attached to the barn’s wall.

“Son of a bitch.” His dad punched the air. “Someone turned
off the water supply to the sprinklers.”

Garret looked down at the wrench in his hand. Freaky
coincidence. “Here.” He handed the wrench to Trey.

Both his family members stared at him a second, then Trey
got to work on turning on the water.

The squeak of metal-on-metal sounded, as his dad pulled
Garret with him into the barn. “Get some men in here to cover the tack.”

From the ceiling, water spurted, wetting everything, and
making the straw on the floor slippery.

They reached the tack room in time to see the men from the
neighboring ranch spread the final plastic tarp over the saddles and leather
pieces as ice-cold water showered them.

“Thanks.” Derrick slapped a man on the back. “Get out of
here before you freeze.”

They ran out the side door into the hot dry night. More pickups
had arrived, and a man with a large black bag ran toward the horse corral. Must
be the vet.

The fire was nearly out, three men held each hose, aiming
the stream at the roof, which still burned bright orange.

Trey came from the back of the building, toting the pipe
wrench. He held it up. “And you were carrying this, why?” His brow furrowed and
a sneer curved his lips.

“Found it in the yard. Thought it might come in handy.” The
irony would be amusing if he wasn’t staring at the ruins of the barn his grandfather
had built. “Can it be saved?”

Derrick walked past him and looked at the smoldering
front-half of the barn. “Don’t know if it’s worth it.”

Trey and Garret flanked their father. “Let’s wait ‘til
morning to decide.” Trey stood the wrench against the barn wall.

A few of the neighbors wandered up with their condolences
and promises to help rebuild.

The McGatlin men offered their thanks and promises of a
barn-raising party the likes of which this county hadn’t seen in generations.

Garret glanced back toward the house. The lights were on, a
figure paced back and forth under the bright porch light.

“We got a spark over here.” The voice came from the other
side of the barn, and everyone raced to that side. A pile of wood had caught
fire on a side where the hoses weren’t hooked up. Everyone grabbed a bucket and
started to run.

****

Megan stood at the bedroom window, her hands over her mouth.
She’d come upstairs to dress, then stayed to watch the horrific scene. Were all
the horses safe?

A few flames blasted from the roof of the barn, but even
through binoculars, she hadn’t been able to see inside the building.

She’d love to help. Maybe she should make coffee?
Sandwiches? Would Inez be appearing soon to run the kitchen?

The lamp on the nightstand and the bathroom light went out.

Megan jumped. Had the fire burned through the lines?

Every light around the ranch buildings still shone brightly.

A thud sounded from downstairs. “Oh jeez.” Her heart whumped
a few times and she breathed deeply, listening for more sounds.

“Call them.” She whispered the words to get herself moving
toward the phone.

Tiptoeing around the bed, she paused, listening, then picked
up the receiver. Dead.

Pure terror raced through her.

She could go out on the balcony, shout... No one would hear
her from this far away.

If she stayed in the house, she’d be okay. The security
system was on. The guards were at their posts.

A sound came from downstairs. A grunt?

Walking slowly, she made her way to the top of the stairs
and listened. Silence.

Megan took one step at a time, her ears trained for any
sound.

The guys would see that the lights were off. They’d come for
her.

She reached the bottom step and skittered along the wall to
the kitchen.

Silence.

Wait, shouldn’t she hear the guard pacing on the porch. She
bent low and raced to the door, kneeling so she wouldn’t be seen by anyone
outside.

Anyone looking to harm her.

When her breath came too fast, she slowed it. Her passing
out wouldn’t help anybody but...Hines.

Megan moved the curtain slightly. There was no one on the
dark porch.

“Shit.” She whispered it as she turned and slid her back
down the door, sitting on her butt.

“The alarm panel.” Somehow, talking—whispering—to herself
made it easier to move, when all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and whimper.

Looking up, at the panel, her heart froze. No lights on it
at all. It was dead. She reached up and turned the deadbolt. Someone would have
to break the glass panel to get in, and she’d hear it.

“Maybe...” She’d look out the other door, the one off the
mudroom on the other side of the house. Crawling on her hands and knees, she
went stealthily across the kitchen, through the big mudroom, and peeked out the
window. No one. The guard was gone

“Hide. Hide. Hide.” She whispered as she spun her whole body
in a circle on the floor. There had to be a place that a stalker wouldn’t look.

A closet? The laundry room? Upstairs? If she could just keep
hidden until her men noticed the lights out...

A sickly orange glow filled the room. More fire?

Crawling to the window, she peeked out. The side of the
house was in flames. The side not visible from the barn.

Panic rushed through her. She couldn’t let their house burn
down. But she couldn’t run outside if
he
was out there.

Voices and running feet hitting dirt sounded outside, going
past the mudroom.

She jumped up and saw a guard, in uniform, run past, a
flashlight beam lighting the ground ahead of him. He yelled something to
whomever else was out there.

Relief nearly made her pass out. She got to her feet, her
knees knocking, and bolted out the mudroom door. Megan followed the man to
where the fire seemed to be growing smaller. That was odd. Shouldn’t an old
house like this go up like a pile of dry leaves?

“Is there a hose?”

He wiped his brow. “Uh uh.” Soot smudged his face and shirt.
He moved in and stomped the ground, putting out the fire.

Something shiny reflected off his flashlight beam. A boot?
Under the porch?

Megan bent and looked underneath. A shirtless man lay there,
unmoving.

Her heart stopped. “No.” She whispered it as a sense of
surreal terror numbed her.

“Yes, it’s me, my love.”

Hines.

“Just one little tranquilizer dart and those big, over-armed
men go face-down like dominoes.”

He stood right behind her.

She sucked in a breath to scream but a hand held a cloth
over her face. A sweet, medicinal smell invaded her mouth, her nose, her
throat.

“I’m so glad I could rescue you. Maggie.”

Everything went black.

****

Trey leaned one hand against the inner wall of the barn and
shone a flashlight at the roof. They’d saved most of the building, but would it
stay up?

Outside, Derrick directed the ranch hands and security staff
as they hauled long timbers into the barn in hopes of bracing up the main
beams.

Garret appeared next to him, looking up. “We good here?”

“Yeah.” He coughed, his lungs aching from the smoke he’d
taken in. Garret’s jeans had black smudges and a couple holes in them. “Your
thousand dollar jeans are trashed.”

Garret looked down and stuck a finger in one of the holes.
“Could be the next fashion trend.” He looked up at the main beams. “Be right
back. I’m going to the house. Check on Megan.”

“Yeah, go ahead. She’s probably shook up.” He glanced toward
the house.

Nothing. No lights, not even the yard lights.

Garret swore beside him. They took off at a run.

“Dad.” Trey shouted as they went past him. “The house.
Megan.”

After just a second, Derrick yelled, “Everyone, listen. We
need to find our guest, Megan, she’s about thirty, dark hair. She may have been
abducted...”

His voice drifted off as they jumped into the first work
truck they came to and sped toward the house.

“If anything happened to her...” Garret drove the truck like
a man possessed by the devil.

“We’ll find her.” Trey prayed, the first time in a long
time. Before the truck came to a stop, he jumped out, the flashlight in his
hand jerking wildly as he launched himself onto the porch and yanked the door
handle. Locked. He swung the flashlight, breaking the glass as Garret slid to a
halt beside him.

Unlocking the door, he opened it. “Megan! Megan!” They waited.
No sound. No alarm going off. Where was she? Adrenaline pumped, his mind
wouldn’t function.

Garret grabbed a flashlight from on top of the fridge. “I’ll
check in here. You look around the outside of the house.”

Trey leapt off the porch, shining his flashlight wildly as
he ran around the building. He came to the charred spot on the siding. “What
the fuck?”

The dirt was scuffed in this area, and a white cloth lay on
the ground. He squatted and looked under the porch.

A body.

He flattened on the ground. “Megan!”

Engines roared, coming closer. Truck doors slammed.

He crawled under the porch. Black boots, black pants. A
man—one of the guards.

Running footsteps drew nearer.

Trey backed out and looked up at a group of neighbors. “Call
an ambulance.” He stood. “Help him. Please.”